Decay
by SarcasticReaper
Summary: Death struggles with his past as he revisits old ruins that hold a psychological torture for the horseman.
1. Whole

**Hello one hello all! I have a new story for you! **

**this is my first Darksiders fic. **

**Now I love the Darksiders games, and I really got into it thanks to the second one. And Death is my favorite character, I just love him. I love the sarcasm, I looove his voice, and if you say you don't, then you're lying. But anyway, this is something I made about Death that deals with the fact that he has one helluva past. Its tragic, and for Death, a major burden. He tries to forget it yet it will always stay with him and he has to deal with that. I do personally believe that he has these emotions that he holes up inside that he refuses to show, and at times of major weakness they are forced out. Death wants to be seen as this tough, calculating figure that does not tolerate weakness when in fact he has his own weaknesses that he struggles with.**

**So, ill stop with the speech and let you be on your merry way! if you like it, fav and review! I will be updating very soon!**

**And remember, ****_This is no place for a horse!_**

**- SB **

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_**Whole**_

* * *

_And I watch the birds, as they fell out of the sky, into the hands of decay. I wish there was a way for you._

_Houses-Beginnings_

* * *

My horse had been trotting along for a long while in this vast green field, trees sporadically rooted in place like living pillars, their veins digging into the skin of the world. I was nearing the destination quite slowly, but this quest is not an assignment, it was a personal endeavor, a destination for "training", if you will. There is an old abandoned castle that can be found by following a specific path from the plains leading somewhere near the mountains, that is where the ruins sleep in a half standing abomination. I go in anger, head aching in rage and annoyance, too many problems to deal with, my head spins as the horse casually gallops away. I am in no hurry, I needn't be, even as anger swells I can contain it in spite of the circumstances upon my arrival. As I rode upon the frail horse, cadavers chased after me, I kicked his sides alerting him to speed up, I retrieved one of my weapons from my side and hacked at any that tried to get remotely close to me. Their bodies were light and went aloft when my weapon violently wedged into their ribcages, some of their limbs had broken off by sheer force, others' bones snapped, I could hear them break. My steed broke into a forced run as more burst up from the ground, their hands ripping grass and burrowing through dirt, I had to be weary that none grabbed my horse, I cannot run from this many cadavers, some will eventually catch up to me. The horse sped up even more to avoid the hands protruding from the ground, I grasped the reins with one hand as my other still held my weapon tightly. As I led my horse, I saw the path to the castle, laden with trees on either side of the dirt road, my mind raced: I had to get rid of these things somehow, they were in one large group not very far behind me. I turned my horse so he would face the crowd of screaming dead, he whinnied in slight fear and I rubbed his neck to signal that things were okay. I raised my hands to the sky as I spoke in spells and incantations, a dark mist emitted from the ground like steam and enveloped the nearing crowd. Suddenly, they all dropped dead, lifelessly falling against the grass, almost all at once, in a semi-simultaneous movement of macabre proportions.

Necromancy was always one of my specialties.

The pathway to the castle was dark, it always was and I liked it like that, the seclusion felt good. Walking on the path felt like stepping into the crossroads of another world, the shade dominated the light; spots of bright sun peeked from behind innumerable amounts of leaves, but that makes it even more beautiful. I took my time, there was no need for me to rush, even as anger hid inside of me, I try to wait and hide my anger, to control my feelings and use them to my advantage, let them burst at the correct time.

Riding in these forests is peaceful, I cherish it, hold it in my mind for as long as I can, even after I've arrived at my destination. I banish Despair and look up at the pitiful building in front of me, falling apart from years of negligence and rot. It was cathedral-like: grand and large in scale, with a haunting apparatus lurking in the underbelly. I knew my way in; coming here has never been pleasant. The place tortures me in a way, but that's why I'm here, to make myself stronger. It's a psychological type of torture: visions of pain and loss, past memories and such. I do not anticipate it, as a matter of fact I despise it, but that also urges me to continue returning.

I open the entrance to a large main hall, there were holes in the walls, broken pieces of ceiling on the floor, blood spattered in various locations like paint. It was dark and foreboding, the darkness fell from the high ceiling like brooding fog, misty and hazily sitting in the dank atmosphere.

All manner of abomination dwell here, from cast out demons to introverted creatures taking up shelter in the ruins, there are always new denizens when I return. These ruins are a vessel for pain, it feeds off of the suffering of others and when you set foot inside, you can feel it. It sucks it from my body, which in turn brings me more pain, those memories are awakened and remembered in vivid detail.

I venture further into the hall, I see one creature with black eyes and no mouth in a corner, hunched over and tearing apart another denizen. It spots me and starts to crawl on all fours, I don't bother with my scythes, as it lunges I grab it by the throat and choke it out. It writhed and flailed until it didn't have any air to breathe, I then threw the corpse aside and continued to walk.

The feeling of desolation washed over me, the ruins has this power over those who enter, I tolerate it even as my body aches from the effect.

The place can be a maze at times, the doors looked similar, and the darkness never let up save for a few places where the walls and ceiling were broken. I walk aimlessly, it's a surreal feeling. I have no destination so I just take it all in.

This place could be my home, I myself, along with my siblings, are cast out and looked down upon like lepers: these disgusting creatures. Yet we somehow, still have purpose. We enforce the balance between angel and demon, yet that task seems so minuscule. I do not think like this all the time, examine my conscience and delve into my thoughts. I feel quite alone, I never ask for aid or guidance personally, and I do not show compassion. But I feel pity for myself; guilt. These thoughts have only ever crossed my mind, but never have I taken much thought to them; I am aware that the ruins have this effect, in fact as I walk, it gets worse with every step I take. Events that I've chosen to bury away rise from their place, it makes me feel sick. I don't want to remember these things, yet I am forced to face it.

Another creature had lunged from the darkness and tackled me to the floor. I growled as it stared me in the face with piercing red eyes and a drooling mouth that was desperate for food. It dug its claws into my left pectoral; it stung as I felt the claws sink through flesh and pain pierced my head. I grabbed its arm and tore it from my body, I then kicked it off of me and rose from the floor. Anger filled my body as the three holes left from the demon spawn's claws throbbed and pulsated as the iron smell of blood permeated through my mask. It was crouched in a limber and watchful position as I unhinged both of my scythes, I had underestimated this creature's strength.

This denizen was a hellspawn, it was almost as tall as I, red eyes, muscular build, jagged teeth and long claws. It growled as it watched my movements. I stood ready for an attack, I moved slowly, it was an approach adequate for a watchful eye, I didn't want to get taken off guard again. I knew it was waiting to pounce once again, as I am waiting to kill it when it does. I move forward suddenly, and as I had hoped, it pounces. Harvester slices off its arm, I felt it go through the bone from the vibrations in the handle. It was swift, and satisfying; it now lays on the floor crying out in pain, I return one scythe to my side as the other, I sink into its chest. It screeches; to silence it, I collapse its chest by stomping on it with a swift movement of my leg. And it goes silent.

I remove the other scythe and return it to my right side, I turn away from the corpse to a column of light and begin to walk to it. I step in the light so I can examine the wound, its still bleeding from all three lacerations, and they were deep. The blood had run down my naked torso to the belt fastened around my pelvis. It was nothing to me, they'll heal over time.

I turned around and out of the light to continue my way through the ruins, and as I pass the corpse, I see something else.

My brother, lying dead where the hellspawn should be.

I am shocked at what I see, War, flat on his back, one arm missing, gash in his chest and collapsed ribs. His eyes are open and staring into the darkness.

I felt my chest tighten up and the wound shoot pain throughout my body, I am shaken. I know this is an illusion, but it had taken me by surprise. My breathing sped up slightly from the thought of killing my brother, being responsible for it, and having to carry that with me. My eyes shoot back to the corpse and he has gone, the hellspawn has returned to its final resting place.

I am finally able to regain myself, I rest my right arm on the wall and place my forehead on my arm.

This is what these ruins are capable of.


	2. Wither

**Wither**

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_I'm holding on as tight as I can, the monotony never seems to end._

_ Every day feels the same, every day I think about the place I'd rather be than here._

_ I've been here before._

_August Burns Red- Spirit Breaker_

* * *

_"If we had taken Eden, none of this would have happened. Yet you rode against us, slaughtered our flesh, then bound our souls in your amulet!"- Absalom_

* * *

I remember all too well how shaken I was, awash in pain and doubt as I cut them down like trees, like inanimate objects that had no purpose. It has never left my mind. My body bears the scars and was home to the pain and suffering of the Nephilim. Absalom and the rest of my kin, I didn't want to do it, but they brought it upon themselves, choosing to take Eden. That was one of the many forbidden things to us.

I am thrust back into reality, my heart is beating so fast, my head resting on my arm. I feel so much agony coming from the entirety of my body from the wound in my pectoral. Some of the blood had dried, yet when the air hits the exposed flesh I can feel the sting. My anger, it boiled inside of me to the point where I just had to exert it. I yelled out as I punched the wall as hard as I could, I felt my bones shake and the skin and muscle of my arm crawl from the vibration. My wrist was irritated and my fingers were throbbing, yet I felt immune to it, I felt the adrenaline rush through me like a drug, it was stimulating, I felt replenished. But that high was small lived and I could feel the pain full force, slamming into me. The headache was back, the stinging, everything, it all returned and hurt even more than before.

I turn around and see the corpse of the hellspawn, still lying there and beginning to smell. I continue to walk again, but this time a little slower than before, I am tired, already I feel weak, drained of my strength. I push forward anyway.

The grief I harbor is a knife, constantly thrust into my abdomen, leaving cuts and bruises all over me, stabbed into my back and twisted, and it is always with me. There is no greater pain than mental, because it may never leave you. The ruins unveil these events from inside the locked doors of my head and forcing them out, toying with them, gleefully attacking me with a personal hell that was intentionally left alone. And that's only the start of the effect it has, it brings it to life in vivid detail, eviscerating every last painful detail, cutting me open and splaying it out.

The dim halls and shattered windows pass me by, the old age of stained glass and gathering of dust and dirt stayed airborne as the meek sunlight glanced in from the outside. The eerie silence of these halls of grandeur had become nothing but white noise to me, there was nothingness to be heard in these halls.

Yet as I hear the nothingness of air, I do know that I am still not alone. Whether it be my thoughts, or more monstrous cadavers crafted from the hands of the worthless and undying, something is ever present.

I find another room, smaller in size yet dreary and uninviting. I stand in the doorway; half of the room is covered in darkness save for most of the right side, light breaks through and bleeds with shadows through broken walls. I can hear more denizens so I cautiously make my way into the room. There are harsh cackles behind walls of pitch black, taunting and cursing in hissed screams while other inhuman noises emitted from their mouths. I cringe behind my mask, my anger slowly boiling in my chest as they continue to babble on.

"_Ahh yes! The Reaper! The Reaper is here!_" it was said with glee. As that voice trailed off, another spoke. It was a creaky and damaged voice. "_The Nephilim? Ohhh, the Kinslayer! It has been so long. Yes yes, one of the Council's pets,_" the disembodied voice stops to laugh, "_Well, it looks like one got off its leash!_"

"**_ENOUGH!_**" I bellowed out to the pitiful scum, hiding in the dark. My hands were tightly wrapped around both scythes as I scanned the room for movement, or for a way to draw them out. I know something is present, I can sense it, I'm not hallucinating again.

I closed my eyes.

"_Temper temper!_" it mockingly cackles.

I sense the wavelength of the voice, open my eyes and thrust Harvester towards the source. This voice now screeches in pain as I can hear the scythe rip through its body, Harvester left my hand in a deadly spinning motion, like an oversized buzz saw. The cracking of bones mixed with grisly sounds of flesh being torn away replaced its voice very quickly. I hold out my empty hand, a telepathic signal for Harvester to return to me; and the entirety of the weapon is caked in blood and bits of flesh. As I lower my weapons the other two beings step further away from the darkness, so far I am able to see eyes peeking out, six pairs of eyes each, moving back and forth slowly.

"_You louse! How dare you slaughter one of us! The Council will not take this lightly!_" The owner of this distorted voice finally emerged from the shadows. It was a Watcher, as was the curator of the other horrid voice. These, obnoxious, beings were crafted by the Charred Council to keep an eye on occurrences of the realm, and most importantly me and my siblings.

I hate them.

At this point, I am a little more than annoyed. "And, why would I run into the two-or, the three of you here?" If I hadn't been wearing my mask, they would've seen the wide grin slashed upon my face, and thank the makers that I was because after my remark they angrily hovered closer towards me, cursing at me. Each eye out of the twelve put together were squinting with anger, as I just stood there, not caring.

Watchers are no more than pests, rodents created for the purpose to snoop into the business of every being in the realm to alert the Council of any plots threatening them or the equilibrium of Heaven and Hell. Nothing more than messengers, servants. But they are relentless little bastards as well: I remember that one Watcher, Panoptos, I wanted to kill him so much.

Eventually the two of them calmed down. "The Council sent us here."

"Why? There is nothing here of interest here for them."

"Then, why are _you_ here?"

I did not hesitate, I grabbed the Watcher's skull with my right hand, out of my blind anger I slammed its head onto the floor as the other Watcher attempted to attack me. I outstretched my left hand and summoned spectral limbs to apprehend it before it could reach. It tried to break free of the skeletal hands trapping its wrists, but their grips are powerful, locked in place for the most part.

"You're following me."

The Watcher was silent as I felt him tremble beneath my grasp, the Watcher held in the iron clasps of the phantom limbs spoke for his unfortunate brother.

"Of course! Don't think the Council is not aware of your ventures here."

Hmm, I should have figured as much from them. But what are they so afraid of? This is a personal endeavor, and it always has been.

"Leave me." I give them this one chance to not end up like their brother, dead in the shadows.

"No. Not until you tell us what you are doing here!"

"I said, _leave_!"

"Never!"

I raised Harvester and thrust it into the chest of the Watcher on the floor, I lifted the scythe and plunged the hilt into the floor so the Watcher hung from the blade. It yelled as the life drained out from its body.

I slowly walked around the scythe, prowled. Waiting for every single fiber of its being to be dead and gone until it is nothing but a body. I know that the Charred Council will not take kindly to this, but I've faced their force many times before, and this time will be no different. And it is so satisfying to kill a Watcher, because no one cares about them, they are nothing but wasted skin.

Soon its body dangled from the blade, lifeless, blood dripping from the massive gash. The remaining Watcher became infuriated.

"I hope the Council beats you to a pulp! Tears the skin from your flesh and burns your remains! You are the pathetic afterbirth of an entire race! You and your lousy siblings should've died along with the rest of the Nephilim! **I HOPE YOU ROT, REAPER!**"

The sunlight peeking in from the broken pieces of wall disappeared, clouds flowed in front of the light and blocked out the luminescence of the sun.

I felt a pain in my chest when he mentioned the Nephilim, my head pulsed from irritation. I was blinded by anger.

"You fucking whelp!" I grabbed Harvester, flung off the corpse of the deceased Watcher and angrily moved towards the immobilized one, who decided that he didn't want to live anymore by running its mouth.

I summoned my second scythe and sliced both arms clean off of its body. I didn't give it much time to scream as I bashed in its skull.

And all was silent once again.

* * *

_WHAT THE HELL - DID I - DO TO DESERVE - ALL OF THIS?_

_Slipknot - Diluted_

* * *

_It's a battle. Its raging on inside you, and you can't take it. You hate it. No matter how much pain you go through, the battle will never cease. You remember what happened on that day? How you looked them all in the face, your friends, brethren, fellow Nephilim – and killed them. Can you hear their screams? See their faces in that final moment of suffering? Can you still see the aftermath clearly, Death? Corpses stacked on top of each other, hills of decay. Rotting and festering. You even killed the children, Death! The women and the elders as well, no one was off limits, isn't that correct? That's what the Charred Council told you._

_The hills of corpses laden with spears and armor, their faces all contorted into screams, while eyes were wide open. Some faces were closed in slumber, while others were wiped clean off of their skull. Do you remember it Death? Can you see it clearly, where you knelt across from Absalom as corruption overtook his body? The numbness you felt never left you, the scars never healed, and the tears you silently cried never forgotten._

_How many times did you cry on that day alone? You were unstable, afraid, sick to your stomach. You hated yourself and felt like you couldn't continue. You were angry, and still are. And as millennia passed, you dug a hole inside of yourself and buried this memory deep into the darkness. But, go look in the mirror, remove that mask, run your fingers over each and every single scar you have and realize that it isn't truly hidden._

* * *

I – I was afraid. Matter of fact, I was horrified with myself. I couldn't even hold onto the amulet containing their souls, I was so broken.

This massive wave of emotion flowed over me as I found myself back in the dark room surrounded by the cadavers of the two Watchers. I didn't know where to go, I just stood there in the middle of the room, in the darkness with blood coated on my hands. I heard my breathing, it was so clear! I have never heard it so crisply before, and I felt the condensation in my lungs and the air travel out of my mouth. That was the one calming feeling I had before I heard a voice that startled me.

"**DEATH**!"

This was a strong and authoritative call, one of extreme power. It reverberated on the walls as I stood in the dark, fearing it. I know that voice, and its call is not kind, it is a violent bellow for me to reveal myself.

Once again I feel such pain inside of myself, a burning on my stomach and the throbbing in my head. My spine gets a chill, and then I feel something puncture my abdomen. My legs lifted from the floor and I yelled out in agony, I can feel whatever has been thrust inside of me pushing against my bottom ribs. I'm then thrust face to face with the owner of the voice that bellowed my name.

"Once again we meet, _brother_."

Absalom.

He was still bound to corruption, his skin was now pitch dark with the tar- like liquid, and his left arm was hideously deformed. He was still the monster I fought at the well of souls.

I felt the object slide out of my wound, like a large needle, it _slithered_ out. The object was a blade, fashioned from the corruption that overtook him. The wound throbbed violently, my organs jolted inside my body, and then I felt the warmth of blood running down my stomach. Absalom had grasped me by my neck as he removed his weapon and then proceeded to throw me into the stone floor with extreme force.

_"_Traitor_."_

Most of the pain went straight to my spine, while the blood from my stomach gushed out from the force of the impact. I grunted and growled from the pain that had overflowed into my body like a disease, a leprosy forcing my bones out of sockets and broke through skin. And I cried out as Absalom stepped on my chest, cracking rib after rib, and he smiled, he laughed, he enjoyed seeing me crumble before him.

I sounded more sickly than in pain, I retched and gagged as I felt blood trying to escape in any way it could from the veins in which it flowed and my breaths were short and rattled. There were ribs that had broken that were dangerously close to puncturing my lungs.

"You are nothing! And you will die as such!"

He finally lifted his boot off my chest. The bottom was soaked in my blood.

Everything was numb as I tried to look up at Absalom, but I had little to no strength to be able to do so.

"I want you to feel the pain we felt when you betrayed us! Every broken bone, crushed organ, and shattered limb. Then after I kill you, I'll leave your fleshy corpse to rot in a puddle of your own blood, and the crows will pick at your remains."

He then picked me up by my throat and removed my mask. "And I want to see your face as you die!"

God the pain! The massive gash in my stomach had started bleeding and as my body dangled in his grasp, every broken rib shot pain into my abdomen. I tried screaming out, but I dare not, my ribs would not allow me that. Instead I gag and growl like a deranged animal as I felt the warm blood in my throat and my mouth.

Absalom threw me into the wall and I landed on the floor on my stomach. The blood in my mouth was splattered across the floor, I couldn't take the pain. I felt paralyzed as I had attempted to drag my body away, I ever so desperately tried to pull my weight, feeling my abdomen slide on the rough concrete floor. I coughed up more blood and felt an awful sting in my chest.

I heard Absalom nearing closer to me, every footstep was a second of life cut away from my body, another beat from my pulse slipping away.

My eyes were flickering out like orange lights, I couldn't even keep them opened.

His footsteps halted. I could sense that he was right in front of me, staring down at my half dead body splayed out in blood.

"Death, you are pitiful, weak. So blinded by the Council's need for balance that you would betray your own brethren!"

I couldn't look at him, even if I had the strength to I still wouldn't be able.

Absalom summoned his axe and I heard him raise it over his head.

"Your death will be satisfying." Those were his final words to me.

"N – No." as I strained to speak those words, blood dripped out of my mouth like saliva, as my head hung and my arms were barely supporting my upper body. I rested my arms once again, they were starting to shake, and there was nothing I could do.

I heard the axe coming down.

"No!" It was painful, but I yelled it out before it came down upon me.

Darkness.

Next thing that happened, I awoke to my screams echoing through the darkness. I was on the floor as I remembered, near the wall, but nothing was there. No scars or sign of injury.

Such a violent hallucination.

I sat up, and removed my mask, which was surprisingly still on my face. I covered my face with one hand as I feel the odd sensation of relief envelop me in the seclusion of shadows.

The pain was so real, I can recall the feeling so clearly yet my body is unscathed, I lower my other hand to my abdomen where I remember the stab wound was, and there was nothing.

Aside from feeling relief, I can feel the wave of emotion in my chest once again, it made me feel sick.

What is happening to me?

As the pain overflows, I am shaken by this place. Everything that happened here flashes in my mind, and weakness breaks through the surface once again.

Out of sheer pain, I broke down. I cried.

* * *

_"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."_

_- Edgar Allan Poe _

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**Author's note:**

**HEY! Huuuuuuge update to this chapter: I decided to add more to it, and introduce Death's hallucination of Absalom into this chapter instead of keeping it for chapter 3. I have other plans for the next chapter ;)**


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